ORION A. BLACK50. Slytherin. Retired.Pledged to the Dark Lord.
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ROYAL -- 45%
When the Royal walks into a room, they command attention. They are the one in charge, and they enjoy reaping the rewards of their hard work
Super Power: Power
Archetype Family: Royal
Other Expressions: Executive, CEO, Leader, Heir/Heiress
Life Journey: To learn to use power wisely, productively, and responsibly.
Unique Challenge: To identify the causes in which to invest my power and influence
Lesson To Learn: To differentiate between authentic and illusory power
Defining Grace: Generosity
Challenge To Self: I will share power in a close relationship, and commit to cooperation and compromise.
INTELLECTUAL -- 35%
The Intellectual is the ultimate dinner-party guest. Engaging questions and thoughtful debate are their trademarks.
Super Power: Wisdom
Archetype Family: Thinking
Other Expressions: Professional, Student, Scholar, Judge
Life Journey: To pursue knowledge for the sake of discovering thruth in all areas of life.
Unique Challenge: To recognize when I’ve locked myself into a line of thinking based on my education or experience; to remain open to new ideas.
Lesson To Learn: To learn to listen to my gut, and to discern the differences between reason and truth.
Challenge To Self: I will avoid paralysis by analysis.
VISIONARY – 20%
Leave it to others to live by the status quo. The Visionary is interested in new ways of seeing, solutions not yet imagined, products not yet built.
Super Power: Courage
Archetype Family: Visionary
Other Expressions: Entrepreneur, Innovator, Pioneer, Guide, Dreamer
Life Journey: To bring the future into the present, and sense the changing impulses of society
Unique Challenge: To remain committed to a new vision in order to bring it to fruition
Lesson To Learn: To believe in my vision, however great or small, and my creative potential to change lives
Defining Grace: Courage
Challenge To Self: I will envision new possibilities for humanity and recognize when an idea is worth rearranging my life for
#{ royal flames will carve the path in chaos | about }#crtchallenge#i love this#too lazy to make it pretty tho
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mvlciber:
evening, july 17th, 1979 muggle london @orion-blvck
Rain fell lightly on the street as Cassius turned a corner towards one of his favorite pubs. The small bar was tucked away from the main street, hidden from the usual crowds that flooded restaurants on days like this. As he passed through the door the kind old woman who ran the place looked up from behind the bar and smiled at him. He smiled back as he turned to find his usual table in the back corner. This bar was perfect. There were never more than ten people there and usually they were all drunk old muggles who just kept to themselves and refused to talk to anyone other than the bartender. Being a muggle bar, it remained outside of all wizarding politics and it had for a long time been Cassius’s hiding place when he wanted to get away from everything.
Today though, it served as a meeting place. A meeting place that was hopefully clear of listening ears and prying eyes, but was public enough not to raise suspicions if they were seen. He pulled off his cloak, shaking it slightly to knock off any excess water from the rain, before draping it over the back of his chair. Walking over to the bar to grab drinks, he couldn’t help but smile as the woman placed his usual whiskey on the bar before he even had a chance to order it. He ordered a drink for Orion as well and carried them both back to the table. And now he waited. Waited for the other man to meet him as they had discussed.
By the the time it came to leave, Orion honestly couldn’t remember who sent the letter first. He was slightly hungover and more than a little stressed, but that was why he was headed out to a pub anyways. Walburga had moved out a few days ago and that night was marked as the night Orion relapsed, after almost seven years of sobriety, and the next morning Orion woke up on the couch, with a blanket over him thanks to his son and very confused on how he managed to get home in the first place. But, hey, at least he got home and that was really all that mattered. He left Number 12 without a word to Regulus and apparated just beyond the chosen meeting place in hopes that the fresh air would help his anxious bones. Or maybe that was just his need for a drink talking.
As he stepped inside, Orion instantly found Cassius among the other patrons. He glanced at the other people seated, relieved to see there weren’t many, and ignored the old lady’s greeting as he walked over to the table. “Hey, kid,” he mumbled, pulling the empty chair to the side of the table so they weren’t sitting across from each other, but not directly besides each other either. Orion knew he didn’t look his best -tired and a little pale- so he did his best to flash Cassius a smirk as he sat down, shoving his leather gloves in his jacket pocket before draping that over his chair as well. He saw the drink meant for him and his eyes instantly lit up. “Just what I needed,” he said, taking one or three drinks of it at once, using the opportunity to watch him over the rim of the glass. “This place isn’t too bad. I actually kind of like it. Remind me to take you to a bar I use to go to ages ago, when I was your age. Best rum you’ll ever taste.”
funny little feeling.
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Send me a ‘🎨’ for an aesthetic or mood collage for our muses.
If applicable, send a verse too!
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weasleyprewettmolls:
Molly didn’t often get out. She was usually at home or at an Order meeting, so having an adult conversation with someone other then her husband or the people she had grown comfortable with was oddly refreshing. She didn’t know much about Orion. Sure she had heard rumors, rumors that she hoped weren’t true considering she was having a conversation with him and he was in such close proximity to herself and her children. But she wasn’t one to believe every rumor she heard.
Especially when she knew how false rumors could be. She had plenty go around about her during her time at Hogwarts (ones that were based solely on her appearance, which she had always thought ridiculous because she couldn’t control her body). So she granted people that one small opportunity that they weren’t always what the rumors say the are.
The one rumor she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around and hoped wasn’t true was the one that Orion had disowned his own son the minute Sirius turned his back on his family. Looking at her children playing with each other reiterated that in her mind while in the company of Orion himself. She couldn’t ever imagine disowning a child of hers (but again, who was she to judge someone on just rumors?).
“You can say that again,” Molly said as she looked back at Orion, a small smile on her face. She watched as Orion looked quickly at her stomach and then made a circular motion at her stomach. “Weasley number six,” she said, perplexed by his question. She couldn’t quite tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but going back to the rumors about Sirius and if they were true, she wouldn’t put it past him to actually believe such a thing. “Kids by nature are chaotic. What’s a little more?” she asked back.
Six. Orion and Walburga had been married for a decade before they even had one. Their fathers, first cousins in the family, had arranged them to marry when they were kids and it was only one of the dozen reasons Orion hated his father. That seemed to be a recurring theme in his family, but at least it wasn’t patricide. It almost made him laugh considering how common that actually was among pureblood families. The ones he knew of anyways. He doubted Molly could relate. They were from completely different worlds, even if their blood status was the same.
Now that he thought about it, it was a wonder Molly was even allowing him to talk to her and be so near her children, like he wasn’t a servant to the Dark Lord. Two of her children ran by chasing each other and he was easily distracted by their innocence and the way it reminder him of Sirius and Regulus playing together. He could almost smile, but he wouldn’t allow himself to act so weak in front of someone who might as well be a stranger.
“Wow... six, huh,” he said, with a few short nods. Well, good for Arthur then. “And I thought having one was a handful. He’s 17 now, you know. I’m not sure how you and your husband do it.” For a second, he bit his tongue, but he was never good at keeping his opinions to himself. Orion let out a short breath of laughter, maybe even a little frustrated at her naivety. “You know what’s more chaotic than children? War, Molly. It may not be effecting you now, but you and your family aren’t untouchable. Aren’t you worried about what could happen to them? Or what could happen if something happened to you and Arthur?”
I Never Thought It Would Hit This Hard || Open
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Neon Cathedral;; Macklemore & Ryan Lewis ( xx )
Bartender, please give me a confession Exchange fear for courage in the form of a well drink There's a heavy current, got a long way to swim Closed the Bible a while ago, I need some shots for this sin
Ain’t No Grave;; Johnny Cash ( xx )
Well, look way down the river, what do you think I see? I see a band of angels and they're coming after me Ain't no grave can hold my body down There ain't no grave can hold my body down
Dead Man’s Arms;; Bishop Briggs ( xx )
Maybe it's built of stone Maybe it's dark as coal It used to be a heart, I'm told But a heart needs blood to love
Blood on My Name;; The Brothers Bright ( xx )
When the fires, when the fires are consumin' you And your sacred stars won't be guiding you I've got blood, I've got blood Blood on my name
Damaged Soul;; Black Sabbath ( xx )
I don't mind dying 'cause I'm already dead Pray not for the living I'll live in your head Dying is easy it's living that's hard I'm losing the battle between Satan and God
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“Have you ever killed something good for you just to be certain that you’re the reason you can no longer have it?”
— Larissa Pham, from “Abject Permanence,” published in Unruly Bodies (via lifeinpoetry)
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regulusb:
natalicdupont:
Her choice had been a simple one, the moment Rodolphus Lestrange had announced the fundraiser: step up to orchestrate it. Her work with Rabastan and friendship to Emma had done enough to get her foot in the door of his good graces, but this would help. Of course this would help. Where the Dupont family stood as French wizard royalty, the Black family rose as London’s. And while the young witch would have been content to organize the event herself, having the help couldn’t hurt. Certainly not if it helped give a chance to prove herself.
The invitation had come as bit of a surprise, but one Natalie was taking to be a pleasant one. If someone so esteemed was offering help, it was a loaded offer that would be rude to ignore. Orion Black was among the Dark Lord’s strongest hands, and she remembered his son from school even if Regulus was younger. Because there was, of course, only one son now; a perverse corner of her mind spoke, saying she had that in common to the Black clan, the loss of one of their own. Not that she would dare ever breach such a thing.
Ensuring herself that she was presentable, Natalie left the family state, soon arriving at Grimmauld Place. Seeing it in person was different than hearing the stories. Because of course there were stories, just as there were of her family’s land. Pureblood society was well known to their own kind. Positioning a polite smile on her face, she tapped against the door, stepping inside as the elf opened it, welcoming her into the hall.
@regulusb
“Master Regulus your f-”
Regulus looked up from his desk and the items on it to see Kreacher, and for the first time in a long time, a genuine smile drew itself across his features, “Kreacher how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? We are friends. My name alone is sufficient.”
“Regulus, your father has requested your presence. You have company.”
He hadn’t been aware of any expectant guests but still he rose, brushing off his slacks before following Kreacher downstairs. He was tired, having stayed up all night working on building a replica of the necklace. He could handle this level of tired and remain a good host though. He only had to wonder why his father wanted him; things had been strained between them lately - he far preferred spending what time he had to spend with anyone with his mother now. Seeing Natalie DuPont when he’d finished descending the stairs to join them was only a slight surprise.
His mind began to race. There were any number of reasons for her to be here, but the fact that they’d both been summoned had left him wanting to know why. Marriage was the first thing to come to mind, and she wouldn’t be a surprising choice by any means. It was the season after all, with several engagements announced. With no spare left he was sure it was his first responsibility after graduation to make sure that that changed. “It’s good to see you Natalie, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Truly, what the Blacks were here in the UK, the Duponts were in France. It would be a powerful alliance to be made, but he wouldn’t question any of that now. He’d wait to hear what his father had to say, because odds were he was entirely wrong. “Can I get you anything? Please have a seat.” At the very least he would ensure he was a proper host, even if he was in the dark.
Orion wasn’t going to allow such an opportunity to slip out of his grasp. The moment he had heard of the future fundraiser he volunteered to lead the project. He had no desire to host it however; he didn’t want to have to mingle with guests or concern himself over entertainment and food. That was where Natalie came in. She was young and pretty, and people would throw money at her without her ever having to open her mouth. Instead, Orion envisioned a hospital with the plans he had in mind, with the rules he would set in place and everybody in their world would remember that it was the Black family who built St. Mungos anew from the ashes of lives lost.
It did occur to him, as the two young adults joined him in his office, that maybe he should have told Regulus what was going on beforehand, but the truth was he didn’t know how to approach his son. He was constantly torn between giving him all the space he needed and demanding that Regulus give him more than fleeting moments of his time. How could he ask such a thing when Orion had done so much wrong in his office that night? For a few short weeks it had seemed that their relationship was growing stronger, but in a matter of minutes Orion had ruined that. It should be surprising, but it really wasn’t. In the end it didn’t matter; Orion needed to keep an eye on Regulus and maybe through this he’d learn a little something about being head of the family.
He smiled at both Natalie and Regulus, setting his book down besides him so they could get started. “It’s good to see you, Miss Dupont. I hope you’re family is well. Before we start, we should probably let my son know why he is here.” He leaned back in his seat, an arm propped across the back of it, a bit of a smirk on his face as he looked to his son. “Regulus, I’ve asked you here today because I’ve decided we’re going to help aide in the rebuilding of St. Mungos. You and I together. With Miss Dupont leading the way, of course, isn’t that right?”
@natalicdupont
young wolves | natalie, regulus & orion
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auroras-sinistra:
Hesitation. That would be the last kind of satisfaction Orion would receive from Aurora that evening. A small hesitation for him to think that she believed his little lies as well. Orion didn’t want to believe that her feelings were phony then fine, but Aurora wasn’t about to start believing that he had had any power in this conversation. He’d found out nothing, just been made more confused in the process and in the end it would hopefully only hurt his reputation farther.
She angled her body slightly towards his, attempting to show that she was not afraid of him, all while her mind was working in the background. “Kill me. See how that ends for you, because I can tell you right now it wouldn’t be pretty. And you know that.” She leveled her eyes at him. The focus was there, but it was more on the object behind Orion than the man himself. As a witch, magic was all around her, it coursed through her veins and wands were used to better direct that magic, but sometimes the raw stuff worked just as well. “Accio wand!” Her wand came flying to her open, unhurt hand.
“We’re done here Orion. Petrificus Totalus!” She shot the spell his way, not even sure if she had the energy to even cast such a spell and it be useful, but it at least gave her a moment to escape out the door.
He did know. That was the worst part. Even though it was just the two of them in this room, eyes were everywhere. People saw them dancing and they saw him drag her away. Killing her now would ruin him. He so desperately wanted to because she was there, watching him from the other side of the cage they put him in. Killing her wouldn’t just ruin him though, he needed her memories, he needed to know what she knew and only then would he be able to rid their world of her. In the deepest corners of his mind, untouched for many years, Orion apologized to his cousin for what he did and what he will do.
He worked his jaw, fists clenching at his sides. “It may not be today, Aurora, or tomorrow or next week, but I’ll come for you and I will get what I want,” his lip twitched and then turned into a smirk. “And since we’re family now, I’ll show you mercy and end your life quickly.”
Orion didn’t see the way her eyes looked beyond him. Too angry to notice how smart his adversary was. She was certainly a challenge, he’d give her that. Orion whipped his head around as her wand went flying past him, eyes wide as he watched her catch it. “No!” he shouted, bringing his arm back to throw the knife just as the spell hit him. The spell dug deep; he felt his muscles seize and go rigid, and then he hit the floor, unblinking as he stared up at the ceiling. That fucking bitch.
Sometime later, Walburga would find him and take him home where he would lay in bed, her head on his chest as she slept, but he wouldn’t sleep. He simply couldn’t when there was far too much to plan.
END
devil’s waltz || aurora & orion
#{ devils waltz | aurora }#yasss i'm good with ending it here#i love that it was that spell that stopped him lmao#and ily
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regulusb:
He had no recollection of the last time he had cried like this - not at a funeral or at a broken bone or anything like that. Even when Sirius had left them, in the face of his parents he’d remained stoic and strong. He’d saved his tears for the shower, where there was no risk of anyone ever seeing or hearing them as they washed down the drain. He’d almost certainly been a small child the last time he’d cried in front of either of his parents like this, and he certainly didn’t like that it was happening now either. He looked up only when Orion had said he wasn’t going to let him die, because there was no way he could know that.
He’d opened his mouth to say as such, but then Orion had continued before he could find the right words, because yet again - how was he supposed to tell him anything? He’d just come back from a month of what sounded like torture, and even still he had to question which ties were stronger. There was no way he could have possibly told him anything, but he did quickly cut in, “No, I don’t know-” before cutting himself off, watching as the lamp shattered against the wall.
He couldn’t quite place the look on Orion’s face, though it did render him back into silence, his gaze dropping to the floor at the sound of his disappointment. This was likely the closest they’d come to acknowledging Sirius in front of him since his departure, and Regulus found he was quite happy for the distraction that a simple glass of water provided, focussing on not eliminating it too quickly by drinking it all.
It seemed quickly that whatever anger his father had was ebbing away, and it was his turn to speak now, though he still had no clue just what was going to come out of his mouth, “I couldn’t tell you.” His statement was simple. “I didn’t know - I still don’t know anything. I don’t know what a horcrux is or even if that is what Slytherin’s locket is. I don’t know what to do, but I know that whatever he’s done, he’s tried to kill Kreacher in order to hide it, and with all of the safeguards he’s put in place whoever does try to retrieve it is going to die in the process. I couldn’t tell you though - Dad you - You were hurt. If this is going to kill someone it might as well be me. The only way I’m ever going to fix any of my mistakes is dying anyways.”
He knew it was a tricky thing to promise. He knew he had no control over death no matter how much he pretended to, but Orion could not and would not let Regulus die. This wasn’t about the Black family legacy or who would be heir. This came down to family, to blood, to love. Was it horrible to wonder if your son knew that you loved him? Yes, it is, the bitter angel on his shoulder whispered, but you’re a horrible person, Orion. While he made this promise to his son, he made a promise to himself- Orion was going to make sure that Regulus lived, even if he himself died in the process. There wasn’t a better way to go out in his eyes.
As much as it pained him to agree, Orion understood why Regulus couldn’t trust him with this. All his life Orion has been putting the Dark Lord before his family, even before himself. It was such a righteous path or it had been until now. One Orion willingly put his son on and now it led them to here, in his study, where under the anger and concern for Regulus’ life, lied betrayal. Because that’s what this was, what it all pointed to in the end: betrayal. A bitter short-lived laugh bubbled up from his throat in between Regulus’ words; a horcrux of all things, and to go after one that belonged to the Dark Lord was certain death. Even if they lived, what would happen after? How would he keep his family safe?
There was much to process and Orion listened to his son carefully, occasionally looking at him when he said something that truly caught Orion off guard- the use of Kreacher, Slytherin’s locket, the mistakes of a 17 year old. Try 50, kid. Orion rubbed at his jaw with his hand, the mental strain growing the longer Regulus spoke. When he finished, Orion turned towards him, leaning against the arm of his chair.
“Look at me and listen... You won’t find anything about horcruxes anywhere. Deemed so incredibly evil -rightfully so- that most average wizards haven’t even heard of it. I was years older than you when I first heard of it and even then it was pure luck I stumbled upon it. The only purpose of a horcrux is immortality. Magic that rips apart your humanity, your soul. It’s a wonder the elf is even still alive,” he said, an eyebrow raised along with the intense seriousness of his voice. “This is why you should have told me. You are seventeen, boy, what mistakes could you possibly be speaking of? Like you said, you don’t know anything. What did you even plan to do with this information?”
trespasser || orion
#idk why but i love that reg calls kreacher by his name#but orion only ever refers to him as elf#i typed this all up and then deleted it i hate my life#{ trespasser | regulus }
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heis-waldenmacnair:
Date: July 8, 1979
Location: St. Mungo’s Fundraiser
OPEN TO ALL !
Walden Macnair looked around at the great turn out of the St. Mungo’s Fundraiser and saw only disaster in the making. Though he couldn’t recognize any Order or Aversio members that may have been nearby, he was certain that the building was crawling with them. While everyone else was busy being friendly and trying to swindle as much money for the cause as they could, he was ready to locate and terminate any intruders. He took a haste walk from one side of the party to the next, recollecting all he knew about his current identity, Edwaldo Oliveira, before he deemed himself ready to approach another guest.
“I think you’re the only person in this whole place that looks like they’re having any bit of fun,” He commented, trying to remember to smile more. “I don’t come to these things often ― I think governments get too money from their people as it is, personally ― but I must admit that whoever organized this event sure did arrange for there to be good alcohol here.” He raised his glass slightly. “I suppose that’s part of the trick though, isn’t it? Well, it’s working on me. How about you?”
Orion tried to remember to look like he was having a good time, but it was hard with Walburga across the room, not saying more than a handful of angry words on the way here and then putting as much distance between them as possible. Merlin, he needed a damn drink. He could smell the alcohol on the other guests breath and every time a waiter walked by his hand twitched to grab a glass. He took another deep breath as he looked around again, welcoming the moment he had to himself before someone else would inevitably find him and strike up a conversation. Which happened sooner than he would’ve liked.
Orion turned towards the sudden voice intruding his thoughts, but at least he had an excuse to not look at his wife anymore. “Oh, do I? Well, glad to know I’m keeping up the charade,” Orion forced a smile in return to the man who looked more than a little out of place. “Yeah, you’re welcome for that,” he laughed, gesturing to his glass. “Ah, I haven’t touched a drop. Trying to keep my wits about...” Orion glanced back to his wife before quickly looking away, “But that may just change. The longer I’m here, the more I need to drink.”
the magic of money | pj!walden&open
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marliism:
St. Mungo’s fundraiser July 8, 1979 Open
Marlene didn’t feel right in her body. There was something unnerving in glancing down and seeing skin that was shades darker than the pale ivory she was accustomed to. Even more, her height was relying solely on the thin heels she was attempting to balance on. It had taken far longer than she had wanted it to, being able to remember how to walk in them, forcing herself to dredge up her mother’s old bullshit Pureblood lessons. But showing up to some fancy event in combat boots would have been a pretty big fucking giveaway and that wouldn’t do her any good. To say nothing of the disgusting aftertaste that Polyjuice was leaving on her tongue but that, too, was something she had to ignore.
Going to the fundraiser wasn’t even something that Marlene had wanted to do, but she knew that she wouldn’t be alone. Even if she was going to be entirely unrecognizable, at least she’d be there. Members of the Order would be there. And maybe being completely foreign, without the bright red hair and unmistakable vibrancy that came with being Marlene McKinnon, she could actually do something other than draw attention to herself.
So even if she was anxious and ready to leave, only moments after having set foot inside the lavish establishment. It went against her very core, being somewhere so frivolous, even if it was how she had been raised. Still, much as she wanted to, Marlene knew that she wasn’t doing herself any favors if she sulked. So instead she picked up a glass of champagne by a passing waiter - one glass was fine - and glanced around. It might fuck up her sobriety but not having it might make her anxious. “This really is an impressive night.” She spoke, almost alarming herself with the drastic change in accent- but then she remembered, keeping a smile in place. Maybe those damned Pureblood lessons would pay off after all.
On the outside, Orion was charming as always and completely at ease as he proudly showed off all that he accomplished that night, though he was not alone in the fundraisers design. But on the inside, he could just feel that something was going to go wrong at any moment. How could it not? Even though he was a part of something that he thought was actually good, it was still a time of war and he knew he had to remain focused. Orion was trying to not appear as paranoid as he felt and he thought he was doing a pretty good job so far. He shared a cigar with some investors, talked to a few Ministry workers whose names he couldn’t be bothered enough to remember, and even shared a dance with his mum; she talked nearly the whole time, but he was hardly listening to her, one eye constantly over her shoulder in surveillance.
He always hated these kind of events; fundraisers, galas, coming of age balls, anything that mirrored the opulent hall they were in and the fancy attire required. Being forced to go to them as a young child did that to someone, but since he had helped put it together he found that it wasn’t as dreadful as he thought it would. Of course, he could go without the mind-numbing conversation and a drink sounded fucking great right now, but another cigarette or two would hopefully kill the edge.
Hopefully, was the key word there. After casting a quick charm to rid himself of the tobacco smell, Orion stepped back inside from a balcony and took a deep breath as he looked around. Everything was still in place. No one looked incredibly suspicious, but there were faces he didn’t recognize at all. Time for mind-numbing conversations he supposed. “It is, isn’t it?” he said to the woman he just approached, his signature smirk plastered on his face. “I can’t take all the credit, but I just might if everything goes as planned by the end of the night.” He put his hand out for a shake in greeting. “Orion Black. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet. And I’d like to get to know all my guests.”
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heis-waldenmacnair:
A smart man didn’t return to the scene of a crime, albeit Walden Macnair considered his intelligence above that of even the most clever of criminals. He didn’t care to know the true nature of the relationship between Cassandra Burke and Orion Black because the only knowledge he deemed necessary to know was that Orion had given his permission for Cassandra to be in his lake house that night, and would almost certainly go looking for her there. Walden told himself that he was returning to the scene to ensure that the evidence left would not incriminate himself personally, but even he couldn’t deny that he was hoping his cousin would be waiting for him.
He entered the estate stealthily, a task too easy to accomplish with a front door that had been blown away. The thunder of the night masked his footsteps as he looked around the sitting room, peeked down the hall, then started to the kitchen. His wand hung loosely in the hand by his side and he had to remind himself to grip it tight. The man he was meeting was neither his cousin nor his friend anymore. He had betrayed him once and the events of that night suggested he had been betrayed their cause ― If he wanted a battle, Walden would give him a war. For himself and Emily, for Walburga and Regulus, for the Dark Lord and anyone else foolish enough to place their trust in such a unreliable man, he would guarantee that hell rained down on Orion Black that night.
With a narrowed gaze, he watched the familiar figure from the kitchen doorway. Orion appeared too lost in his own thoughts and wallows to notice that he was not alone and Walden felt compelled to scold him for entering a crime scene without the slightest bit of cautious. His older cousin had taught him much of what he knew about dueling and killing and how to be a solider in the viscous game of war, yet it seemed that in years passed he had forgotten many of his own lessons. Though his composure remained calm as Orion spun to face him, he felt a rush of adrenaline course through his veins as his body prepared for a fight. “You should have,” He agreed. “I’ve never kept my hunts a secret. … We’ve been estranged for longer than I thought, apparently. Of all people, you should know that I never attempt anything, Orion. I only ever succeed and tonight, I succeeded in completing what the Dark Lord asked of me ― to drag Cassandra Burke back to those she betrayed, dead or alive. Clearly, you underestimate my willingness to do the same to you. You’ve betrayed everyone by hiding her here.”
Of all places, he never thought someone would discover Cassandra here. It was foolish of Orion to think Walden would have forgotten about this place. Then again, he hadn’t known she was a target of his. Of course he expected the death eaters to search for her, but that was why he brought her here in the first place. The lake house was safe from all, but his cousin. He should have known better, and now Cassandra was paying the price for his mistakes. Orion wasn’t concerned with how much Walden figured out on his own; he would not have allowed sanctuary to just anyone here, which meant he cared for Cassandra a great deal. Now, he just had to figure out how to make this right and how to get out of here with as little of his blood spilled as possible.
There was a time when Orion was just like Walden- or was it more appropriate to say Walden was like Orion? It mattered little now. They had once been close, but Orion has changed a great deal since then. For better or worse, he still couldn’t decide, but some days it felt like it was for the better. He was not a perfect man nor a perfect father, but he was not so willing to burn London down in the name of the Dark Lord anymore. It was only one of a few betrayals he has committed in the past few months. It wouldn’t be long until Walden pieced it all together. Unless he stopped him, which Orion absolutely planned on doing. What a showdown this is, he thought bitterly.
His eyes flickered down to the tight grip his cousin had on his wand, the telltale signs of a man readying himself for a fight. Orion did not have his in hand; he’d have to find the right moment to reach for it. “Apparently so,” he said flippantly. Walden was right- to think he wouldn’t succeed was a pathetic attempt at denying the truth Orion already knew. Cassandra had been taken. His breathing was calm, controlled, but he had to hide the flash of anger in his eyes as he leisurely paced the room. “She came to me, Walden. She came to me and asked for help, and I could not deny her. So, she is dead then? Or is she to be tormented by the Dark Lord first? Believe what you’d like, but her betrayal and mine are not as simple as you think. Hmm, no, I do not expect you to spare me. But do not underestimate me, my little cousin, and think for one second I will grant you mercy.”
hungry dogs (are never loyal) | orion & walden
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“The moral of the story is, I will gut you if I need to. I will carve my way out with only my teeth.”
— Brenna Twohy, from “Little Red Riding Hood Addresses the Next Wolf,” Forgive Me My Salt (via lifeinpoetry)
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auroras-sinistra:
More pressure on the knife caused more spots to form in Aurora’s eyes. She was going to pass out. That was the only direction to go from here. She would faint and look even weaker than she was before and there was no knowing what Orion would do to her if that happened. Aurora rested her head against the table, eyes closed, just trying to focus - one breath in and one breath. “I don’t give a fucking flip if you believe me.” The words were supposed to have great conviction behind them, but Aurora was sure they came out in more of a whimper. “I might be able to lie better if there wasn’t a knife in my hand.” The sass came though at least, even when she was on the verge of puking or fainting or both.
With Orion slightly distracted now, Aurora took a breath and tried to figure out what to do from here. She either had to get out or get to her wand. Was she even capable of such movement right now? She had to do something though… Bracing herself, Aurora grasped the knife and pulled it from her hand, clenching her teeth so she wouldn’t scream. She threw the knife. At Orion. She knew she would miss, but it was at least a distraction for the moment. Aurora struggled to her feet and made for the door.
"That is the point, little bird,” he said, waving a single hand at her as he continued his walk around the room. “If I wanted to hear your pathetic lies, I’d be out there with rest of your guests. But, here I am.” He shot her a grin and then a wink over his shoulder, the first time he looked at her as she tried to keep herself together. She was stronger than he thought. Then again, if she was going to be Walden’s wife she would have to be and he knew his cousin wouldn’t want a weak-willed, pliant wife anyways. If he even wanted her as his wife, he thought disgustingly. There was more to this story, he knew it. All he had to do was figure it out. Of course, that meant he would have to speak with Walden and he really really didn’t want to do that.
A clock on the wall caught his attention. Orion had barely been keeping track of time, too caught up in whatever secrets Aurora may have on Aversio. He needed more time! He needed to know more. Orion looked at the clock again just as his knife struck it, sending glass and both objects crashing to the floor; he covered his eyes and turned away, only to see Aurora attempting to run. He ignored the sharp pain that struck his knee as he bent down at an odd angle to pick up the knife, aiming it right at her. “Aurora! If you touch that door, I will kill you where you stand,” he was bluffing and he only hoped she wouldn’t call it out. Orion knew he couldn’t kill her; not when he hasn’t pried her mind open yet and certainly not here, at this fucking engagement party. He spoke through gritted teeth, “We are not done here.”
devil’s waltz || aurora & orion
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cassandraburke:
This would end badly, Cassandra could already sense his determination and eagerness to give Enzo a taste of his powers. To stay in front of your own killer – it must feel like a shock, an outer-body experience before a knife would eventually permanently make it a reality. Cassandra watched him, however, with adoration – her devil, while she was, without a doubt, his Salome. Of course Enzo had to accuse her of everything – rightfully so, but his words didn’t hurt as much as she thought they would. All these phrases were nothing more than repeated nonsense, hatred she could easily see as weakness. “I will wait,” she then said, looking towards Orion, “I will always wait for you,” she then leaned against the wall, watched them carefully, but her head tilted slightly to the side as Orion grabbed his knife. Seeing a knife, in an alley, held from a Death Eater – it all brought back memories of a man she’d tried to forget. No, this wasn’t seduction anymore, it was control. But before she could even speak Orion had already plunged the knife deep into Enzo’s torso, ripping him apart. His screams, the extreme pain he must feel at this moment – none of this was really something she’d desired, but it’s what she’d wished for and to what Orion happily responded with bloodshed. With her eyes widened in shock, she watched the man in front of her trying to fix himself again, but of course he failed and nothing of the person he once was remained.
As the smoke flew through the air, slowly resolving into nothing, Cassandra finally looked towards him, and, without hesitation, joined him, got closer and grabbed his bloodstained hand, squeezing slightly. “We’ll get you cleaned up,” she said, not wanting to look at Enzo again No, her words were rather hushed, as if she hadn’t inhaled before saying them and rather all air had left her lungs. Dragging him towards the pub, they walked from one side to the other and, before anyone could say a thing, she cast Obliviate to quickly make them forget they were even here. “Come on,” she said, hushed. “We wouldnt want you to leave bloodstains everywhere.”
The cigarette he smoked calmed the devil on his shoulder. He had just killed a good man yet he felt nothing at all. Orion was already counting the number of sleeping potions besides his bed. He’d have to make more; the nightmares would surely come back for a few days. They always did after he murdered someone. He didn’t understand it and gave up a long time ago trying to. At this point in his life, Orion was use to not getting sleep. It’s just the way it was. Orion hadn’t seen the way she looked at him while he killed Enzo, eyes wide as he fell to the ground, but if he had it wouldn’t have been the look he was hoping for and he would have questioned it without a second thought. He had a single and final fleeting thought on Enzo- I should send his family some money. The next he felt was Cassandra grabbing his hand and he returned her squeeze with one of his own. He flicked the cigarette to the ground as he trailed behind her, dead mans blood putting out the ember for him.
He smirked, a little snicker escaping between pressed together lip,. “I don’t care if I leave bloodstains everywhere. But you’re sweet for thinking so.” Inside the pub, he tugged her in a different direction, up a flight of stairs. “There’s a suite upstairs with a bathroom. We can use that,” he said, leading her up there. While he didn’t care about the blood on his hands, he did see it as an opportunity to be alone with Cassandra. He opened the door and let go of her hand so he could lock it behind them. Orion turned and towered over her almost instantly; one hand on her hip, the other bloody one hovered just over her throat and jawline, not touching the skin just yet. “You aren’t afraid of a little blood, are you, princess?” he asked in a whisper. Adrenaline from the kill was no longer coursing through him. It was pure lust for the woman in front of him.
this mess brings me closer to you | orion & cassandra
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weasleyprewettmolls:
When Molly looked back and saw Orion Black looking at her, memories from years prior came rushing back. How long had it been since she saw the other man? Surely it had been before she started having kids? She hadn’t thought about him in just as long.
Molly and Orion never really had much in common. Where he was a Slytherin, she was a Gryffindor. He was also a couple of years older, so they never much crossed paths. Come to think of it, how did they even initially met? Was it through her father’s connections through The Ministry? Was it through Arthur’s connections through The Ministry? It hadn’t been through Hogwarts because he was long gone before Molly entered the Wizarding School.
Not that it mattered much. People meet each other throughout their lifetime and while those connections might not always stick, she knew Orion. They were friendly when they saw each other, apparent by the fact that Orion had come and say hi and apparent by the fact that Molly was always polite when they saw each other.
Molly couldn’t help but to laugh when Orion said he had heard her children. “Yeah, it’s hard to miss a bunch of redheads, isn’t it?,” she said as she laughed. “And it’s gonna get bigger in a few months,” she said as she looked at her children momentarily to make sure they were all still playing where she had instructed (the last thing she needed was one to wonder off). “It’s been too long. How are you?”
Orion met Arthur what felt like years ago at the Ministry now that he’s been retired for nearly a year. They couldn’t have been more opposite of people. Their departments were on completely different levels, their jobs on a different end of the spectrum, but even Orion had to admit, her husband was one of a kind. It helped that her family were purebloods just like his, though he’d say that’s where most of their similarities ended. It was nothing personal. Orion thought his family was better than all.
It was absolutely refreshing to have a conversation with someone who didn’t blatantly hate him. Maybe Molly did, but was too kind to say anything. That did seem like her, but Orion didn’t know much about her other than what he could he learn on his own. Either way, he wasn’t looking for a fight today.
He followed her gaze as she checked on her children again. Orion stopped saying he had two sons the moment Sirius turned his back on the family. Now there was only Regulus, his heir. His house was always quiet, always clean. Orion couldn’t imagine it any other way. He wondered if Molly felt the opposite, if she couldn’t imagine her home not full of children. How dreadful that must be, he thought.
“Yes, I suppose it is,” Orion forced a small chuckle; Walburga always wanted more children, but he was too rotten to see how much it meant to her. “I’m alive and well, which is more than what most people can say these days,” his eyes glanced down at her stomach for half a second, a single finger moving in a circular motion at it. “So, you’re pregnant? How many does that make now? Personally, I can’t imagine bringing another life into our world right now. There’s too much chaos, don’t you think so?”
I Never Thought It Would Hit This Hard || Open
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walburgablak:
July 10th, 1979 | Mid morning | Number 12
Walburga finished folding the last of the clothing she wanted to take and zipped her bag shut. It was surreal. Thirty years of marriage and yet the only things she wanted could fit into the large suitcase beside her. She knew it was time to go. Walburga couldn’t keep being the victim. She had a small smile playing on her lips as she remembered her younger self saying she wanted to be the hero in her own story. The way things came back to haunt you. Walburga had been so young when Orion had swooped into her life and saved her from the abuse of her father. Orion had seen like a savior back then and when his alcoholism became too much and she told herself he wasn’t perfect, that he loved her and all of the behavior was from the drinking. But this time, he was sober. There was no excuses, he had proven she wasn’t enough for him… No she thought to herself. She knew she had to stop blaming herself for his actions. That type of thinking is what had put her on the bridge just about a week earlier. She would not be making that mistake again. It was his mistake that had caused this.
Walburga took a breath and enchanted the bag to float beside her, not feeling like carrying it. She had a small apartment in a muggle section of London all set up with a room for each of her boys, and one for her. It was long past time for her to do this. Orion had been trying to tell her he didn’t want her for years, but now she was finally going to listen. She got to the bottom of the stairs and looked over to where he sat on the couch. Her heart ached at what she was doing, but the crushing betrayal of what he had done was too much this time. Walburga was tired of fighting. Her eyes gleamed with a saddened determination. “I’m going, Orion. It’s time.”
@orion-blvck
He must have read the same sentence a dozen times within the hour. His poorly made breakfast had long grown cold. The only reason it was even there was because he needed something to do while the sun slowly rose. He’s been awake for hours, no longer able to sleep the past week, not without seeing that night on the bridge, not without Walburga next to him. He felt like his father, sleeping in another room without his wife. The book of poetry crumpled in his fists. He was his father. A sad and damning truth it was. Orion removed his reading glasses with one hand and rubbed at both eyes with the other. The headache was back and he was desperate to rid himself of it. There was only two things that could: booze and sex, and neither one felt very appropriate right now. His mouth felt dry so he finished the rest of his now cold tea, but that only left his mouth drier, if that was even possible. The thirst was calling to him- a drink never sounded so good as it did now.
Orion smoothed out the pages of his book and tried to refocus on the Gothic poems. He managed to make it to the next pages until his eyesight got blurry and his thoughts drifted elsewhere. That headache a dull thud he couldn’t ignore. He hadn’t heard her come down the stairs or sense her presence in the room like he always did. It wasn’t until she spoke did his head snap towards her, forehead creased with wrinkles as he stared at her face, dark eyes traveling down her form and settling on the floating bag besides her. “What?” he asked, a crack in his voice from how dry it was. Orion stood up, placing his glasses back on his face and allowing his book to fall from his lap. He took a hesitant step forward, not wishing to speed this up. “You’re... you’re really going to go? But- where? And for how long?” he asked, suddenly feeling his teenage self, unable to speak his thoughts clearly, hopeless as ever.
Famous Last Words - Walburga & Orion
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